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Sermons, doctrinal and practical

William Archer Butler · 1857 · Scanned text · Free in the US

192,662 words · about 13 h 30 min to read

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About this book

Author
William Archer Butler
Language
English
Published
1857
Length
192,662 words · about 13 h 30 min
Sections
11 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States

 

Contents (11)

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Front matter

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I. ^ Return From Lakeland To The World

Hill behind hill retreating on each hand. Rock behind rock, and island island hiding, The cruel helm my bark still southward guiding, I trod at last my last lakers border-sand. Fled aU I Yet no, processions dimly grand, Move slowly now through Memory % chambers gliding, Shades of a beautiful elsewhere abiding, Sad twilight ghosts of that evanished land. Ceased too the glamour of Her magic wand. The spectral splendour, perishably fair. Dissolved away, dies into common air.

And in the stark, stem world once more I standi The heart, unclothed of dreams, shivering, and bare. Feels the keen morning blast, and loathes the light's dull glare.

MEMOIR. XXXlll

II

Thompson, " thou most" mendacious " man of men! " Whether thy bark ill-omened thou dost steer O'er dimpled waters of meek Windermere, Or, gibing, bidd'st that dark Ecclesian den"" Ring hoarse applause again and yet again, — Mishap be with thee, wretch I and sound of fear. Forgotten parcel, passenger austere, And when thou deem'st it nine, still find it ten/ Tea, powers are leagued against thee — mystic powers, The injured spirits of mount, lake, and plain : Blue Derwent^s hills bright from their bath of showers, Ullswater, sunned and shadowed now in yain, Vengeance against the luckless churl implore. Whose false tongue robVd their charms of one enthusiast more I

*'I cannot but remember with a painful interest that probably the last note he ever penned, dated June 28, 1848, some days after the access of the fatal fever, was in answer to a proposition of mine that he should join me in a short excursion among the Scottish lakes. It expressed his ardent desire to comply, and even his hope that he might be able. A few lines, dictated on the following first of July, requesting the prayers of his friends, forbade me to cherish the prospect ; and, instead of meeting himself at Glasgow, as had been our mutual hope, I had the deep grief of receiving there a letter from his friend, the Rev. Mr. Ball, announcing the awful tidings of his death. I saj awful, for such to me was the impression made by the removal of one so full of manly vigour, physical and intellectual, one to whom my best afiTections had become closely attached, and whom I had been in the habit, with human short-sightedness, of regarding as destined by Providence to become, for a long period, the greatest light of the Irish branch of our Protestant Church, a bul-

c

XXXIV MEMOIR.

wark of rational churchraanship and of spiritual religion. The Allwise had otherwise decreed. In this affliction consolation was afforded by the intelligence contained in the same letter, that he died as we would wish a Christian to die, finding peace, even amidst the delirium of fever, in the thought of his Saviour ; and by the reflection that, though so early cut off, he had left some products of his mental labours and Christian principle, the effects of which, if rescued from destruction, would be permanently beneficial. I congratulate you upon your office as the Editor of these remains, and, while I am glad that his compositions as a Christian preacher should take their proper precedence, I trust that the reception of this volume will be such as to encourage you to give also to the public his admirable Letters on Development, his Lectures on Philosophy, and his Poems. His poetry appears to me to possess many high attributes, — strength and flow, freshness of diction, and fervour of feeling ; and I have heard it warmly praised by so good a judge as Professor Wilson, so that I should be sorry it was not collected. The theological value of the Letters on Development will, I am persuaded, be more and more recognised ; and they have, as you know, already received in print the stamp of the approbation of Archdeacon Hare and Dr. Christopher Wordsworth. And in reference to another work, I may add that the testimony of many of the soundest and ablest minds has satisfied me that my own high estimate of my lamented friend and his writings has not been altogether a partial one. His sermon, entitled ' Primitive Church Principles not inconsistent with universal Christian Sympathy,' I have taken pains to place in the hands of many friends, as thinking it admirably adapted to produce in the Churchman who followed its masterly argument, a happy combination of stability in his own position with an unembarrassed and loving recognition of Christian excellence beyond it ; and I can report that, where the reader was competent, I have never been disappointed in the effect. The impression which its perusal left upon the mind of the Bishop of Lichfield (who elsewhere

MEMOIR. XXXV

writes, * his early removal was indeed a loss to the Church'), is expressed in the following extract from a note which I had not long ago the honour to receive from his Lordship, and which I have gained permission to communicate to jou : * I am much obliged to you for the opportunity which you have afforded me, and of which I have thankfully availed myself, of again reading the vert/ masterly sermon now returned by me ; and for the pains which you have taken, though without success, to procure me a copy of it. If the theological and literary remains of Mr. Butler contain much that is equal, or even approaches, in power and wisdom, to that admirable sermon, I am sure that it will be greatly to be lamented if they are kept back from the public'

** I will conclude my letter, which I fear has exceeded its proper dimensions, by transcribing part of a note which testifies the opinion entertained of our friend by Mr. Wordsworth, and the interest he feels in the publication of his works. This also I have been allowed to place at your disposal : * I am very glad to learn that a volume of sermons from our lamented friend, Professor Butler, is about to be published, with a sketch of his life. From what I have seen of him and his writings, I feel convinced that anything from his pen must be valued by the judicious, and I hope that this publication will soon be followed by his other theological and philosophical works, as well as by any poems that he may have left in manuscript.'

" I thank you for inviting me to cast this leaf into the grave of my firiend,

" And I am, my dear Sir,

" Very sincerely your's,

"Robert Perceval Graves.

" To the Rev. T. Woodwardy Fethardr

m

During the year 1845, the Roman Catholic controversy seems to have principally engaged the attention of Professor Butler. I have before me several large books of his manuscript filled

c2

XXXVl MEMOIR.

with collections upon the subject. In December he published in the Irish EcdesiasHcal Journal, to which he was a constant contributor, the first of his " Letters on Mr. Newman's Theory of Development." These letters have been pronounced, by some of the first living divines, models and master-pieces of polemical composition. One judgment, instar omnium, I may mention, — that of the late venerated Archbishop of Canterbury. That profound scholar was so struck with the merits of the Letters on Development, as to express his commendation in the highest terms, and to acknowledge his sense of obligation for this triumphant refutation of the great neophyte of Romanism.

The value of these learned essays has not ceased with the discussion upon the principle of Development which occasioned them. They form a manual of the highest value upon some of the main points of the Romish controversy. It is impossible to read them in their present shape without repeating the ** earnest wish" of Dr. Christopher Wordsworth'*, " that these admirable letters should be circulated more extensively, by being published in a separate form." The opening letter of the series contains the following graphic sketch of the rise and progress of those tendencies which were afterwards matured in the unhappy fall of Mr. Newman and his followers, and of the origin of his Theory of Development :

** It is scarcely possible to overstate the importance of this admission, that after all the long and earnest efforts of her devoted advocates to demonstrate that the Roman Church has delivered to us the simple Christianity of antiquity ; the attempt must honestly be given up as hopeless. There is, indeed, something very providential in the case. Scarcely any one but a person situated just as Mr. Newman has been, could have prosecuted such an argument, and brought it so satisfactorily to this result. A professed Anglican theologian denying the antiquity of Romanism, would have been regarded as a mere partisan controversialist, echoing what others had said,

^ Letters to M. GondoOf author of " MouvemenU Religieux en Anglettrre^** p. 8.

MEMOm. XXXVll

and speaking rather what he wished than what he knew. A professed Romanist, on the other hand, would scarcely have ventured to risk his Church's reputation upon the chances of a semi-philosophical theory of ' development ;' knowing that, though the theory might go the way of a thousand theories before it, the fatal admission it involved would not be readily forgotten. Mr. Newman being in a transitional state, neither Anglican nor formally and definitively Roman, was emancipated from both these restraints, and has accordingly opened his mind freely, fairly, and irrecoverably. His previous education in our great Anglican university, had fortunately expanded to him the whole field of antiquity, without those perverting biasses by which Romish training woidd have prepossessed his judgment ; accordingly he could not be deceived by the hollowness of the common pretences of the Roman theologians on behalf of their tenets ; whatever merits mediaeval Romanism might claim, he knew antiquity too well not to know it could not really claim that. It might be (as he seems to dream) something better than antiquity, but it was not antiquity. Still, — ^if I may without presumption go on and venture to sketch what I have little doubt is nearly the true history of this case, and of many others, — ^his imagination and feelings were irreparably engaged ; and reason, as usual, was soon busily active in devising subtle argumentative grounds to justify his choice. He had before his fancy a bright ideal of Unity, Perpetuity, Holiness, Self-denial, Majesty — ^in short, that *' glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing,' which the Lord of the whole Church is yet to present to Himself ' holy and without blemish f in the impatience of desire he had come to identify his Ideal with the actual Church of history ; by constantly dwelling among the highlywrought devotional works of holy men in the Roman communion— works which utterly spoil the taste for the calmer and more intellectualized piety of our divines (very much as romances debauch the taste for solid reading), his heart was seduced into forgetting the vices of thousands in the heroic

XXXVUl MEMOIR.

virtues of comparatively few, and (what is much worse) the gross doctrinal errors of those few, for the sake of the ardent piety their effusions seemed to embody ; until at length the errors became tolerable, became acceptable, became welcome, were received as truths ; and then the work was accomplished. But all was not yet secure. In this crisis arose the necessity of accounting for the undeniable absence of certain prominent peculiarities of the system from the records, not only of inspiration, but of antiquity for centuries. Others might not feel the difficulty ; he could not escape it. And so by degrees the thought grew into shape, fitting itself as it grew with goodly apparel from the * wardrobe' of one of the richest imaginations of our time, that the Church of Christ mighty perhaps^ be meant to embody one living, growing, self-organizing scheme of belief; that it might have been intended spiritually to nourish itself by imbibing and assimilating materials from all around it ; incorporating into itself all the tniths of all mankind, permeating them with its own transforming spirit, and moulding them into new shapes, so that what was before gentile error and worthless superstition, became, merely by virtue of this regenerating adoption, high and holy truth; nor this alone, — but that by brooding over its original store of doctrine it might be endowed with a faculty of expanding it into totally new and unsuspected forms, even unto collecting new Objects of Worship, legitimate sharers in divine adoration, from their relation to Him, whom it once seemed the first principle of all religion to maintain in sole and incommunicable supremacy. Such was the * theory of development,' — an hypothesis in many respects brilliant, attractive, imposing ; having against it only such objections as these, — that it was utterly destitute of evidence beyond its utility for the explanation of the (unnecessary) difficulty that suggested it; and that in somewhat alleviating that difficulty, it introduced others of tenfold magnitude peculiar to itself"

The famine of 1846-7, which visited the northern province, in general, with comparative lightness, was felt with appalling

MEMOIR. XXXIX

intensity in the neighbourhood with which Mr. Butler was connected. The conduct of the Irish clergy during that terrible calamity cannot soon be forgotten. The inestimable value of our parochial system, even in a temporal aspect, in districts which could be reached by no other machinery, was powerfully and practically impressed upon the minds of many not disposed before to regard the Church Establishment with friendly eyes. The exertions of Professor Butler were ceaseless and untiring. Literature, philosophy, and divinity, were all postponed to the labours of relieving officer to his parish. From morning till evening he superintended the distribution of food, often toiling with his own hands in this ministry of love.

The energetic benevolence of Mr. Butler in relieving the distress of his parishioners, during this awful visitation, necessarily engaged him in constant intercourse with the Roman Catholic poor. That intercourse naturally suggested the consideration of a most important subject, — the desirableness of employing a season of urgent temporal distress as an opportunity of religious controversy. The subject, doubtless, has engaged the anxious attention of many earnest ministers and members of our Church, under similar circumstances; the misery of the masses around us still presses it upon us daily for a practical decision, nor do the prospects of the country permit us to hope that its consideration may soon be put aside.

Upon this question Mr. Butler was well qualified to judge. He was at once profoundly skilled in the Romish controversy, and the best methods of conducting it, and also intimately acquainted with the character of the Irish people. His judgment was, that a period of more than common distress was peculiarly unfit for polemical operations, however favourable for suggesting those blessed consolations of religion, which may be fully dwelt on without one controversial allusion. He conceived that suasions to prosclytism (not, indeed, as the necessary condition of relief, but), coming from those who held the purse of charity, would be but too likely to elicit motives inconsistent with ** godly

Xl MEMOIR.

Bincerity ," — with " pure and undefiled religion." He deprecated all projects to associate together, in any form, relief of their bodily necessities with attempts to alter the professed belief of a starving population. I am happy to have it in my power to exhibit the views of Mr. Butler upon this important subject, expressed in his own language, — language whose earnestness and fervour bespeak the intensity of his feeling upon the matter.

In a letter', published February 10, 1847, Professor Butler thus writes : " Hardly any observer can have failed to remark how, amid a thousand miseries, the present tremendous visitation has at least contributed to one good result ; how it has tended to remove prejudices, — perhaps mutual prejudices, — but, at least, those which, in some degree, exbted towards the clergy of the Church, on the part of their poorer Roman parishioners. Myself the weekly distributor of charitable funds to great numbers, chiefly of that persuasion, I cannot fail to see it, and to be gratified with seeing it. I can be content with this for the present. Special and peculiar cases apart, where a duty is plainly pointed out, imposed by superior authority, or arising out of circumstances manifestly directive, I am willing, in faith and humility, to leave the great revolutions of religious history to the disposal of that Providence who keeps their times and seasons in His own hand, content, in the mean time, to observe how, amid all these perplexing mysteries in the history of the Church, onb principle, at least, shines out in its old immutable brightness; how that great law of love, which our Divine Founder made the main characteristic of His religion, still, in even the most adverse circumstances, exercises its inherent tendency to unite and endear, — how it has but to show itself, and the most repulsive elements of our nature are imable to keep asunder, combined, as it were, in spite of themselves ; and thus, even in these imperfect and firagmentary glimpses, testifying to the reality of that great consummation to come,

' To the Editor of the Dublin Evening Math

M£MOIR. Xli

when faith shall no longer be arrayed against love, and the unity of a common belief shall be permitted to conjoin those who would fain, even in these dark and discordant days, be one in the unity of a common charity.

" For my own part, I will not scruple to say, though, perhaps, it is scarcely wise to enter upon such a topic without more room than I can now demand, to explain and guard my meaning, — it is not without fear and trembling I should at any time receive into the Church a convert from any of the forms of Christianity outside it, whom I had known to be sincerely devoted according to the measure of hie light. The duty of so doing may arise ; and, when the duty is plain, it must of course be done ; I only say that I should feel very great anxiety in doing it. Men ought never to forget how fearfully heavy is the responsibility of a new convert. Tou have unsettled all the man's habitual convictions; are you prepared to labour night and day to replace them with others as effective over the heart and life ? If not, you have done him an irreparable wrong. Motives to righteousness, low, mixed, uncertain, as it may be^ are greatly better than none ; and there can be no doubt that he who has lost so many he once possessed, requires constant, earnest, indefatigable exertion on the part of the teacher who undertakes to supply their place. What care, what skill, what persevering patience does it need to repair the shattered principle of faith in one, whom you have succeeded in convincing, that all the deepest practical convictions of his whole past life are delusion !^

During the latter part of 1847, and the first six months of the next year, Mr. Butler was employed in preparation for a work on Faith. Never was that great subject undertaken by one more calculated to attain the object which he designed, — to heal divisions by reconciling and harmonizing apparent, though not real, discrepancies of opinion. His collections contain a vast mass of materials, drawn from the Fathers, the Schoolmen, the continental Reformers, and the Anglican divines. No

Xlii MEMOIR.

clue, unfortunately, is left to guide us as to the method which he intended, or the system which he proposed to construct.

While thus employed, that summons came which removed him from the scene of faith to the *' fruition of the glorious Godhead."

The last week of his health was passed at the house of his valued friend, Archdeacon Grough. He had gone there preparatory to the ordination of the Lord Bishop of Deny, holden on Trinity Sunday, in the church of Dunboe, on which occasion he was selected to preach. During his visit to the Archdeacon, his unaffected simplicity, his brilliant wit, his deeptoned piety, were the admiration of the entire party. Full of health and spirits, he seemed like one destined to be long an ornament and pillar of the Church. But God's ways are not our ways, nor His thoughts our thoughts. He assisted at the ordination, and preached the sermon. His text was Matt, xxviii. 18-20. Unfortunately, according to his usual custom, the discourse was unwritten. The following brief notice I have obtained from one' of the clergy who heard it:

** He showed how with this, the great Apostolic commission, was combined, in a sort of comprehensive symbol, the Catholic Faith, even the doctrine of the ever-blessed Trinity, contained in these words, * in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost/ We may not be able to see the link which binds the Apostolic Order of bishops, priests, and deacons, to the conservation of the Apostolic Faith. But in a rapid and masterly sketch of those reformed communions which had forfeited the Apostolic Order by abolishing episcopacy, he proved that, as a matter of fact, those bodies had, as corporate bodies^ failed to bear witness to the Apostolic Faith ; while the episcopal Churches of Christendom, however otherwise corrupted, had preserved this great truth intact in the worst of times. He then proceeded to show that the doctrine

^ The Rev. William Alezanderf the eloquent Curate of Londonderry.

MEMOIR. xliii

of the Trinity, so far from being merely abstract and speculative, was intensely personal and practical, calculated to form the staple of the teaching of an Apostolic Church. More especially as regarded the divinity of our Lord, he said it might be proved by internal evidence to any mind which could be brought to feel what sin was, for such a mind could never feel sure of an adequate atonement without an infinite sacrifice. This led him to speak of those divines of the Anglican Church, in whose writings would be found an armoury against all heresies, as well as the most touching lessons of practical holiness. He took a series of these authors ; he dismissed each with a few sentences, but not before he had characterized his peculiar excellencies, and made the audience feel his distinguishing merits. His description of Taylor, in particular, was gtartlingly beautiful, and literally took away our breath. He recommended us to read some works of a practical character by dissenters. Baxter, Howe, and Edwards, were amongst the number mentioned.

" And now came the promise, without which all knowledge and all zeal were vain. Christ had promised to be with His Apostles and their successors always, whether in the blaze of noon or the dark night, or in that twilight between the two, wherein mostly the course of our probation moves on. Still He was with His ministers, and to that presence they should look when heart-sick with disappointment in their work, or bowed down under the weight of conscious imperfections. They had to preach the cross of Christ, — on the one hand its eflScacy to save, on the other, its sharpness and its sternness ; its contradictoriness to luxury and ease, and its daily self-denials. This aspect of the cross was what men did not wish to see, and what might not be popular, but a woe was on us if we preached it not."

The Friday after the ordination Mr. Butler returned to his home, a few miles distant. On the road his death-sickness struck him. He had heated himself by walking before he took his place upon the public car by which he travelled. He xliv MEMOm.

became chilled, and on his arrival at home felt indisposed. Fever rapidly set in. He was soon aware of the dangerous nature of his malady, and expressed a wish, if it were Grod's will, that he might survive one month, until he had completed the work already alluded to on Christian Faith. One ejaculation was constantly upon his tongue, " Christ my righteousness !" The Rev. Mr. Ball, a neighbouring clergyman, who attended him night and day with a brother's tenderness, declares that his very wanderings were full of the most splendid eloquence and exalted devotion. Upon Wednesday, the 5th July, his spirit was translated to a more congenial atmosphere, even the glorious company of the Church Triumphant in Heaven. He breathed his last without a struggle, so softly that they who watched beside his bed knew not that he was no more on earth. Upon Saturday, the 8th of July, his remains were laid in his own churchyard. The Bishop, the surroimding clergy and gentry, and several thousands of the humbler classes, were assembled to pay the last tribute of respect. When the coffin was lowered, a burst of grief was heard from the collected throng, and many a manly heart was dissolved in tears.

I cannot better conclude this imperfect notice than by applying to Professor Butler the words in which he closes his own masterly sketch of the life of Bishop Berkeley : —

" We have written of Berkeley as an Irishman ; but we feel that such a man belongs not to Ireland but to human nature ; and never did the panegyric of epitaph lay by its customary pomp of falsehood more sincerely, than when it called upon every lover of religion and of his country to rejoice that such a man has lived. So much for his earthly career ; the rest is hidden from our feeble eyes. But if we must leave the Christian, the philosopher, the patriot, at the moment when all human biography must resign its task, we may well believe that his subsequent life is taken up by the pen of angelic recorders!**

I subjoin an extract from the Charge delivered by the Lord Bishop of Derry, at the Cathedral, on the 18th of July succeeding Professor Butler's death :

MEMOIR. xlv

** I cannot, however, dismiss this subject without alhiding (painful as I feel the task) to the truly melancholy event which has so recently deprived these religious societies » of an eloquent and powerful advocate, and removed from the Church one of her brightest ornaments ; this, too, at a period of life when we might, without presumption, have hoped that the career of usefulness for which his unrivalled talents held out so fair a promise, would have been, under the divine blessing, lasting and prosperous. But * God's ways are not our ways,' and He has been pleased to call him from amongst us. To him the change, we humbly hope, has been from a transitory world to * an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away.' To those who enjoyed an intimacy with him it affords a melancholy consolation to dwell for a moment on the attractions of his character. He possessed that habitual placidity of temper which flowed from a mind at peace with Grod, and furnished a permanent spring of pure and fresh enjoyment. His conversation was instructive and enlightened, and exhibited the outlines of genuine Christian humility. To the poor of his parish his loss has been truly a£Bdcting ; the vigorous and warm benevolence of his heart extended his active assistance to the desolate habitations of poverty and hunger ; and hereafter, when those over whose spiritual welfare he watched with such unceasing vigilance shall themselves approach the hour of death, they will gratefully recollect and bless his name, who, under God, impressed on their minds the truths of eternal life, who ' fed them with food convenient for them, and gave them the meat which perisheth not.' The deep concern so visible in the countenances of his sorrowing parishioners, while in silent procession they followed him to his tomb, marked how large a share he had possessed in their affections ; and the tears which fell upon his untimely bier, as it descended to its ' long home,' bore a gratifying testimony to the place which he had occupied in their hearts. How essential is it for us, my brethren, to learn

r The Societies for the Propagation of the Goepel, and the Promotion of Christian Knowledge.

xlvi MEMOIR.

from this afflicting occurrence the great lesson of entire dependence on the Holy Spirit of God, and to bow before the dispensations of Him who needs not the might and wisdom of His creatures, but removes the most promising biilwarks of defence from His Church, when they seem to be most valuable, that we may look not to them, but to Him, without whom * the counsels of man are vain/"

The Sermons in this volume were, with a few exceptions, written without any view to publication. I have taken them from manuscripts, often much abbreviated, and very difficult to decipher. It is possible, although I do not believe it to be the case, that I may have failed, in some instances, to discover the true reading. It was the author's custom, even when he employed a written sermon, frequently to insert sentences externpore, wherever the meaning seemed to require further elucidation. The want of these connecting links may accoimt for occasional abruptness, and for some obscurities, at first sight, in the consecutiveness of the reasoning.

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